


Leading By Example

by Mellorine



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gestalt Bond Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4507686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellorine/pseuds/Mellorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl's private time may not be as private as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leading By Example

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Commission for [bamshee](http://bammshee.tumblr.com/)!   
> Commission info is [here](http://jetandsilver.tumblr.com/post/123062968162/jetandsilvers-fanfic-commissions).

Ten straight hours in a meeting with Optimus, Windblade and ( _shudder_ ) Starscream, and Prowl was ready to start flipping tables and never stop. But rather than run up his home furnishings bill, he settled on grabbing a bottle of engex out of the cupboard and collapsing in his chair.  
  
Damn Optimus and his well-meaning idiocy.  
  
Prowl’s fingers tapped out a rhythm on his leg before inching slowly upward.   
  
Anything to take his mind off that ridiculous sham of a bureaucracy.

 

* * *

  
  
"Oh, _frag me_."   
  
“Frag yourself, I’m trying to sleep.” Mixmaster rolled over and kicked Hook.  
  
“No, I -- dammit, _quit that_ \--  not _frag_ me, frag _me_.”   
  
“I’ll frag both of ya if you don’t stop,” Bonecrusher rumbled.  
  
“That’s not what I -- _Primus dammit stop kicking me_ \-- just stop for a second and listen to me!”  
  
Four helms groggily lifted up, eyeing Hook with various levels of annoyance.   
  
“Okay, _thank you_ ,” Hook said. “Now. Does anyone else feel that?”  
  
Four helms exchanged looks varying from _the frag_? to _well I guess Hook’s finally lost it_.  
  
“....No?” Scavenger finally ventured.  
  
Hook’s visor flashed in impatience. “Seriously? None of you feel like someone’s getting a bit, _hm_ , handsy?”  
  
“Oh for Primus’ sake, Hook, that’s Long Haul, ain’t it?” Mixmaster glared at Long Haul. “You jacking off all lonesome over there?”  
  
“Not me.” Long Haul raised his servos, optics wide and innocent. “I thought it was Bonecrusher.”  
  
Bonecrusher snorted. “Why would I be using my servos when I got four tight valves right here? Nah, it’s definitely Scavenger.”  
  
“What? No it’s not!”  
  
“Okay stop stop stop stop stop.” Scavenger settled down from a panic to a pout as Hook waited for the rest of them to stop bickering. “You realize not all of us are here, right?”   
  
Quiet, as realization dawned in four sets of visors and optics, until Mixmaster finally broke the silence.  
  
“Oh, _frag me_.”

 

* * *

  
  
Prowl groaned, helm lolling back, as he pumped his servo along the length of his spike, two digits of his other hand teasing at the wet petals of his valve.   
  


* * *

  
  
A chorus of moans filled the Constructicons’ barracks.  
  
Bonecrusher bucked into the berth, servo inching closer to his straining, leaking cord.   
  
“D-don’t you dare,” Mixmaster hissed. “Not yet. He’ll _nnnn_ \-- notice.”  
  
The bulldozer growled acknowledgment. Yeah, yeah, he wouldn’t touch. But damn Prowl was makin’ it hard. He never got so revved up from just a little touching, but frag him if the bot didn’t know his way around a set of equipment.  
  
Another phantom stroke of dripping petals, and Bonecrusher’s engine stuttered.  
  


* * *

  
Slowly, Prowl pushed past his swollen petals, digits seeking out nodes and massaging them mercilessly.

 

* * *

  
  
Hook clung to Long Haul’s plating and rutted shamelessly against his leg.  
  
“You’re leaking on me,” Long Haul gasped between choked back groans.  
  
“ _Y-yeah_.” Hook retracted his panel and lubricant spattered down, staining his plating, and Long Haul reached down to wipe it away, only for his servo to find its way between Hook’s thighs.  
  


* * *

  
  
Pink prefluid dripping a trail down the belly of his spike, Prowl thrust into his fist as he plunged digits deeper into his valve, reaching for his ceiling node fantasizing...

 

* * *

  
  
“Oh, frag me frag me frag me,” Scavenger chanted, prayer-like. Oh, just imagine if Prowl was right there and those servos were on him, and those digits were a spike inside him, and the rumbling in his audials was Prowl’s engine as he fragged him raw, and oh it was too much, but _imagine_.

 

* * *

  
  
Calipers clenched around Prowl’s digits and he curled forward as overload hit him, transfluid jetting from his cord in thick bursts. Cooling fans roaring for air, he gasped brokenly, doorwings, trembling, waiting for it to crest, before finally falling limp back in his chair.   
  
That had been... _intense_. Maybe some post-meeting self-care was something he should be doing more often.  
  
A faint brush of charge tingled across his sensor net, and Prowl sank back further, servo blindly reaching for his bottle of engex. Yeah, definitely something he should start adding to his schedule.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Then it’s decided.” Hook nodded solemnly, and the other Constructicons followed suit.   
  
“We need to figure out how to convince Prowl to schedule more meetings.”  
  
  



End file.
